Addicted To
by Guinivere Sage
Summary: Year 2061. Shilo is starting a Zydrate rehab center, but will the Largos stand for it? Of course not. Also, in order for her plan to work, Shilo has to bank on Graverobber changing at least some of his ways...maybe. :: Grilo later on, rated M to be safe.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: Okay, so this is my first Repo! story. I only recently fell in love with this universe, but it has quickly taken over my life. I hope that you guys enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy writing it.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Repo! The Genetic Opera or any affiliated characters or settings. All rights go to Terrance Zdunich, Lionsgate, and the other people who... own the rights. Yeah.**

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**_In the slightly more distant future—the year 2061—a very different world had emerged from the aftermath of the infamous Genetic Opera. The grimy, dark world of Zydrate addiction and the Repo Men was relegated to the fringes of society as, in the metropolis, Amber Sweet led a revolution of "clean living." True, as GeneCo changed, the fortunate could live safer, healthier lives. But beneath the thin veneer of peace, a silent war raged. The Largo brothers and the beautiful Ms. Sweet just couldn't manage to change... Shilo Wallace, founder of the Blind Mag Society for a Better World, was trying to clean up the outer streets, effectively eradicating the source for the powerful family's secret lives. She was their prime target..._

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_In the distance, a video board announced its pleading advertisement. "Provide for others the chance at a better life," a smooth, feminine voice intoned. A pale man with dreadlocks, wearing a long black trench coat, glanced up from his work to watch the commercial. "Send a donation to the Blind Mag Society today. Even the smallest contribution can be the greatest gift."

The Graverobber's lips twitched into a smile when Shilo's face flashed across the screen. As propaganda for another of GeneCo's latest products began, he returned to the body in his arms. With practiced ease, he readied a syringe for extraction. "Sometimes I forget just how much she has grown..." Graverobber slid the needle into the corpse's nostril and pulled the plunger, drawing out the coveted Zydrate. With a pop and a flick, the little glass vial was hidden safely in his jacket. "But it's my job... to steal and rob..."

He lowered his eyes, unable to muster the energy to finish the mantra.

Graverobber rose and with a grunt, hefted the dead stranger back into their sarcophagus. He folded away his Zydrate kit and tucked it into his pocket, preparing to move on to the next row of unknowing victims.

A sound among the headstones made him pause. He didn't fear the authorities, but they wouldn't bother to sneak up on him. This was someone else entirely, and he wasn't comfortable not knowing who. He turned slowly, forcing his body to retain a casual demeanor.

The shadows always seemed to shift and sway on nights like this, when there was just a light haze blocking the sky from view, and a breeze sifted through the overgrown ground. From that liquid darkness, a slim figure emerged.

Five years without poisonous medication had allowed her hair to grow long again, with a silkiness that no wig could mimic. Her eyes, dark orbs that saw too much, flashed even in the dim light. And her skin, as pale as it had always been, seemed to glow in a way that didn't come across in the video advertisements. Shilo smiled sadly.

"The things you see in a graveyard..." she murmured.

Graverobber couldn't help but smile. "Horrors, as usual. Graveyards don't change much, even in a golden age."

She approached him, weaving between the stones. "The dead won't shift unless they're moved, but the living have a propensity to change."

"Then I guess I must be dead." With a bitter grin, Graverobber slipped the Zydrate vial from his pocket and tossed it into the air, then caught it lithely.

She was close enough by then that he could make out the details of the cameo necklace she still wore. "Do you know why I'm here?" She asked with just a thread of annoyance.

"To be philanthropist of the year?" he fired back, hoisting himself to balance on the headstone behind him.

"You know that's not the reason!" Shilo wrapped her arms around herself, and at once he was reminded of the vulnerable teenager. She was staring off into the night, but it was clear she was truly looking into the past. "With my father dead and Blind Mag gone, I had to face my future alone. In a way I was familiar with solitude, but never when it was self-induced." She closed her eyes against the lingering pain.

It bothered him, on some basic level, to see her like this. But what could he really do? With a flick of his wrist, he held the Zydrate vial in front of her. "I can help to numb the feeling," he offered.

"I didn't come here to be your customer." Her tone was laced with bitterness, and she turned away from him fully then. "I used to think of us as friends. It hurts to think that it might end—"

"Then perhaps you should stop cleaning up my clients."

"Graverobber..." She spun to glare at him. "Graverobber, you know you wonder how you ever got in." She closed the last few feet between them, her gaze driving into his. "Graverobber... Sometimes I wonder why you do this at all."

It was his turn to move away. He leapt from his perch, striding over to his latest victim's tomb. He stroked a hand over the worn marble. "Because Zydrate comes at a mighty fine price. And that price is all that keeps me from starving in agony. And who cares if on the way I commit a few felonies? Because in the end, when I die, I become what I sell. Now _there's_ irony."

"But that's not the way it has to be—"

He cut her off again, whirling to face her. "Do you have a proposition for me?" he asked mockingly.

"Yes!"

Silence followed her exasperated exclamation. Graverobber had to compose himself, wiping the shock from his face. Just what was the girl plotting? "And what, may I ask, is it that you propose?"

This was finally what she had come to talk about. She forced herself to calm down; to prevail to him with the logic she knew her plan possessed. "I've been thinking. And the Society has been growing. Growing enough to provide for a few key players... Zydrate empires. The oil that fuels these addicts' fires. I can cut off their source just in time for the clinic..." Shilo trailed off, trying to explain. This was coming out so wrong! "Rehabilitation has to start at the top, and if you help me, I think I can stop the madness. Just think of it. Living without the worry of being 'shot on sight,' or swarmed by people who just might kill for another hit. Can't you see it?" Shilo moved to him and reached out, touching Graverobber's shoulder lightly. "A life without Zydrate to cause all your woes..."

He glanced down into her pleading eyes and couldn't resist brushing a wayward lock of hair from her face. Yes, she had grown up, but was still very young in many ways. "So I get to leave this hell that I chose, and you get to watch as your bright future grows."

"Tell me you'll try," she said, her voice breathy. "Tell me you'll do this, so my dream doesn't die."

Watching the emotions spill through those dark irises, he considered his options. In the end, though, he just couldn't do that to her. With a heavy sigh indicative of the great changes to come, he nodded.

He would help her.

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**Okay, so I'm trying really hard to stay in character, which isn't horribly difficult, but I'm also making the insane attempt to write the dialogue in such a way that it could actually be turned into song. Please, tell me how I did on both counts. I'm working on Chapter 2 as soon as I finish uploading this, but I wanted to get this out as soon as possible so I could get feedback. I LIVE FOR FEEDBACK!**

**and fluff. fluff heals the soul.**

**PS- to all those reading this because it came through their alerts: Hi! I know it's been a very long time. But don't be discouraged; I plan on doing my best to churn out the next chapter of Knight of Darkness tomorrow. Yes, TOMORROW!  
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	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: Whoo! This whole lyric-in-the-dialogue is harder than I thought. Part of me wants to drop it, but most of me realizes that I need the challenge, and that the story will be better for it. Your thoughts?**

**Anyway, here's Chapter 2, and I'm pretty pleased with how it came out. There's enough development to keep the story going, but also some solo time, which I felt was needed to explore the slightly older Shilo. I have to say, I love Graverobber. Whenever I write his character, I have such a clear picture of Terrance, and that deep voice.... phenomenal.

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**Chapter 2**

Shilo returned home to her small apartment, exhausted but pleased. Her trip to the graveyard had gone better than she'd thought. Had she been right? Was the famous Graverobber finally getting tired of his drug-induced throne?

Regardless of his motivations, he'd agreed to help her. Within the next twenty-four hours, Graverobber would arrive at Society Headquarters, and this whole plan would finally be set in motion. She couldn't fool herself into thinking this would be easy. With Graverobber off the streets, hundreds of junkies would be thrown into fits of withdrawal. She knew he wasn't the only dealer, but he was the biggest, and there was no way the small-time players could keep up with the exponential demand. The clinic, due to open in just two days, would be there to accept the overflow; to start the process of creating better lives for these people.

"They're infected by their desires," Shilo mused to herself as she wandered into the living room. She lit a few calming candles, and their light flickered across an old picture of her and her father. "Desires that turn singers into harlots, fathers into Repo..." She stopped, momentarily suffocated by the rising pain. She shoved it away; buried it like she always did. She let her mission rise instead, taking that emptiness and turning it into resolve. "And the occasional daughter into a hero." Her gaze steadied on Nathan's loving face. "You asked me to change the world. You, of all people, who knew exactly what this world could do. Who was I supposed to be? This sheltered ward, thrust into a plot of destruction without you... And now, I'm wrapped up in this tragedy with a desperate strategy to erase all the pain. Torn between doing what's best for me and then all that you asked of me... asked of me..." With a sigh, she turned to look at the gentle but imposing figure of Marni, the same image that hung in her bedroom all those years ago. "Trapped... again."

Blessedly, her phone started beeping, alerting her to an incoming call. She used the distraction to put all thoughts of the dark past behind her. If she wasn't careful, she'd lose herself in it, like so many times before. And then she wouldn't be able to fulfill her duties. With the press of a button, she accepted the call. "Shilo," she answered brusquely.

"It's Eve," came the reply. "Did you have luck finding him?" When the clinic opened, Eve would be the person leading its day-to-day functions. She'd been instrumental in helping the Society flourish. An ex-Gentern, she knew all the details of how Zydrate worked.

"Yes," Shilo replied. "He's in."

"That's great." Eve's relieved sigh was clear, even through the device. "He'll be influential."

"He hardly fought me at all. I wonder if..."

"What?"

"It's nothing. I don't know when he's coming."

"We will be ready, of course. So you think he's willing?"

"Yes. Once he's with you, we'll move on to step two, and hopefully cure this disease."

"Just leave it to me."

"You know what to do. Goodbye."

Shilo disconnected, and somehow felt even more tired than before.

She moved to her bedroom and got changed. Lights shone through her window at irregular intervals, but that was normal. Some part of the city was always awake, constantly advertising. She climbed into bed, pulling the covers tightly around her.

Maybe, once the clinic was on its feet, she could focus on something other than the Society. She couldn't help but feel this quest to change the world was slowly sucking the life out of her. But then, whenever she'd tried to gather other interests in the past, it always failed. She'd end up back at Headquarters almost 24/7, setting up press conferences and commercials and delegating operations of the various employees and offices. The only other thing she'd been able to accomplish successfully was the garden.

In the lot behind the clinic, Shilo had insisted there be a garden. It had been extremely difficult, since the city atmosphere left little room for anything to grow. But with constant care of the plants, and the right insects introduced to the area, the little plot had finally flourished. It was, in Shilo's mind, a tiny bit of magic in an otherwise barren landscape. Benches under trees... paths through flower beds... even a clean fountain.

She had to admit, without GeneCo's efforts to create a brighter world, the garden wouldn't have been possible. After all, their surroundings were finally starting to look more like an actual metropolis, rather than a post-apocalyptic slum. That all changed, of course, once you got past the city walls.

Maybe this venture was Shilo's own version of addiction. It was a good cause, but the road to hell was paved with good intentions. How could she possibly enjoy something she did for only herself? Selfishness is what had led them to that horrible place. Besides, she was used to confinement, wasn't she? If she was no longer to be confined in her bedroom, she'd be confined by her schedule.

Her bitterness overflowed, but it was directed at no one besides herself. Her genetics didn't dictate her destiny, but her emotional scars seemed to.

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In the highest room of the tallest building in the city, the owner of GeneCo and her brothers were plotting.

"She needs to go down," Amber insisted.

"On me!" Pavi exclaimed joyfully.

"No! You idiot, she needs to be killed."

"By me." Luigi's addition seemed to only anger Amber more.

"No, brothers, no. Shilo has caused enough problems already. Anything you do will find its way back to me. How does she think she can clean up the streets? Only one person can have a rehab center! And that's Amber Sweet."

Looking up from his hand-mirror, Pavi grinned. Coming from Amber's own stretched, fallen face, the motion was grotesque. "You are just jealous of her."

Luigi was leaning against the wall, twirling a blade through his fingers, as he chimed in again. "An understatement, for sure. Plus you're pissed that the little bitch is going to steal your Zydrate fix."

"Shut it!" Slamming her hand on the desk, Amber stood and glared at them. "I saved GeneCo... I saved you! Without me, you'd just be an angry jerk and a faceless perv out on the streets Shilo's emptying. So you'd better listen closely, 'cause if I go down, you go down with me!"

That, at least, got their attention. Luigi and Pavi thrived on their lifestyles. They couldn't imagine not living exactly how they wanted to. "Alright, sister, we get the point. What do you want; a shot to the head, or a knife to the gut? Or something worse for the stupid slut?"

"Worse," Amber agreed, sitting back down. She smiled, now that her brothers were playing along. "Something much worse..."

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"This has to be the first time I've seen the sun in years."

"I know what you mean." Shilo smiled, staring into the sky with Eve. "The difference is slight. Just a minute glow that wasn't there in the night." But that meant the thick layer of smog hanging over them had thinned, just a little. "Maybe in a few years or so, we won't need UV for this garden to grow." She turned back to her work; a patch of wilting lilies that needed intense care so they wouldn't die. "I've got it from here," she said to her employee. "Go help set up for the clinic's premier."

Eve left, and Shilo was alone once again. Part of her mourned the loss of company, but another was more comfortable this way. It was the part that felt she was better off alone.

"I'll do what's needed of me," she whispered to herself. "And then me and the world can move separately."

"But if you and the world grow apart, how can you heal a graverobber's heart?"

He'd snuck up on her, damn him. Shilo spun around and though he'd startled her, she couldn't help but smile a little. As for his comment, she knew he'd been teasing her.

"The graverobber's heart is his own business," she shot back, standing up and brushing herself off. "But why are you at the clinic?"

"Your assistant at the office took one look at me, and told me this was where I should be." He smirked and took a few steps out from the shadowed trees.

Shilo spared a glance for his attire and realized that yes, anyone who did not know him would assume he was hooked on Z. She wasn't entirely sure it wasn't true. "You have no idea how much this means," she told him sincerely. "You're helping so many who need to get clean, but Graverobber... I need to know. Do you use what you sell?"

"Will I be treated as well?"

"Only if you want to be, but if you use Z, we'll need to be careful. The Society has a reputation..."

"Selling is hard when you have your own fun." He strode slowly toward her, an evil smile on his lips. He got close enough that with his height, Shilo had to look almost straight up to meet his eyes. His voice went all low and husky, and a thrill of danger shot through her. "I find my amusement elsewhere."

Shilo lifted a brow. She may surrender to the little girl inside of her on occasion, but for the most part, she was an adult in a world of physical, mental, and spiritual debauchery. Graverobber could test her composure if he wanted to. "Try to keep yourself out of trouble," she implored. "But otherwise..." Gently, she lay a hand against his chest and threaded her fingers through the fur lining of his coat. "Amuse yourself as you wish."

He chuckled heartily as she moved away. "Be sure I will." Shilo stepped toward the back door of the clinic and motioned for him to follow. With a grin, he went with her. "Be sure I will..."

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**Oh, I just love him.**

**Okay, here's where the duty is passed from me to you. Review, please! Reviews are what keep me motivated and inspired, and constructive criticism is always heartily welcomed.**

_SagePoint: What's the name of the original 10-Minute Opera that inspired Repo?_


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: Okay, so here's Chapter 3, and again I find the need to stress that doing this dialogue is so supremely difficult. The first half of this chapter flew by, but as soon as I got to the actual interaction between Graverobber and Shilo, I had to put on the brakes and really focus on the structure and flow of the words. I really have to give props to Darren and Terrance; All I'm doing is writing lyrical dialogue, and I'm having so much trouble with it! To imagine the work they went through to write Repo! is just staggering.

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**Chapter 3**

She only saw fleeting glimpses of him after that. She'd shown him to a room, stocked with all the basic necessities, and then left him to get acquainted with the building which was to be his new home for as long as he agreed to stay. Shilo had specifically chosen the most remote room for him, not wanting him to unnecessarily get mixed up with the struggling junkies once they started to arrive.

Shilo had her own work to do, but there were also lots of people moving quickly in and out of the building. They were members of the Society, getting ready for the clinic opening. Not only did they need to be ready for residents immediately, but there was bound to be press, and Shilo insisted that the Society be as transparent as possible. Any reporters who wanted a more intimate look at the workings of the clinic would be invited right in, led on a tour by Eve. Once they had a few patients to take care of, the media would have to back off, but Shilo had found it was better to satisfy their curiosity during the initial rush, rather than have them hound you for weeks until the story died.

Among the bustle of work and excitement, Graverobber wandered. He'd taken a shower, a luxury he hadn't indulged in for quite a while, and then passed out for a few hours on the bed in his room, which was an even rarer luxury. Clean and refreshed for the first time in years, he strolled through the halls and rooms of the clinic wearing leather pants and a simple linen shirt, his only real change of clothes. He explored with interest, taking a close look at what Shilo had devoted so much time and energy to.

He had to admit, the place was decent. Standing four stories, he guessed it could house upward of two hundred people. Apparently, Shilo dreamed big. The rooms were simple but clean. There was a standard cafeteria, what looked like a game room, and another good-sized space with chairs set up in a circle. Graverobber smirked; ah, the classic support meeting setup. At the back of the first floor there was office space, and when he came to a door marked 'Shilo Wallace,' he let himself in.

The office was neat and very impersonal. The biggest consent to personal preference was a small bookshelf on the wall behind the steel desk. Papers of various sizes were sorted into piles on the desk, and with a careless swipe of his hand, he fanned a few out to inspect them. Bills, licenses, ledgers, inventories; nothing even remotely interesting.

Shrugging, he moved on to the book shelf. There was some really old stuff there, novels from the 20th century and earlier, mixed in among self-help books and guides to addiction and overcoming it. He pulled out a slim, leather-bound copy of _A Midsummer Night's Dream_. He'd read part of it once before, and enjoyed it. Maybe with all this new time on his hands, he'd be able to finish the story. He slipped the book into his back pocket nonchalantly and wandered out of the office. There really wasn't much else to look at in there.

He paused, wondering where he'd last caught sight of Shilo. He'd seen her talking to some workers out front, but a glance from the main hallway told him she was no longer there. He slipped out the back doors and into the garden, realizing night had fallen already. Hell, Shilo could have already gone home. He took a walk down the first garden path, and had to admit that in his thirty-five years, he'd never seen anything like it.

Faint humming broke him from his musings. With the stealth that came from years of grave robbing, he made his way to the very back of the garden, which was closed in by tall stone walls, with ivy slowly crawling up their sides. A marble fountain sparkled like a crown jewel in the path's cul-de-sac. The sculpture was of some ancient, dancing goddess, and the water poured from her hands and eyes. On the ledge circling the small pool, Shilo sat. In her black corset-top and skirt, with her fingers trailing in the water, she looked like something out of a Victorian dream. The humming he'd heard was her, her soft voice drifting over the notes like the water over the statue-goddess's body. He didn't recognize the tune, but it was pretty and kind of sad. Very Shilo.

She began to sing, transitioning smoothly into lyrics. "When you think that you're alone, we're alone together. When you think that you're undone, I will whisper never. In the dark at night we speak; your words carve so deeply. We see now our future bleak; there can be no sleeping. When I cannot move alone, you help me keep living. When the world still seems so wrong, to fate you're unforgiving. You may hate the you inside; I must disagree, because the you that you hide goes with the one in me." She went back to humming, bringing the notes through a bridge to a lilting, yearning melody. As she sang, Graverobber had circled the fountain and begun moving up behind her. He wasn't one for soft laments, but her voice was beautiful, and he just couldn't resist. When he was just feet behind her, she began again. "Let me show you what beauty truly is. I see strength in your eyes. Right behind you, I cannot give enough. Self-deprecating lies take from you all that I was, and I was... your love..." To his shock, she turned her head enough that he could see her profile. The straining notes of her song were still in the air, but her next words were spoken. "Did you enjoy the show?"

He chuckled moving to stretch out on the fountain beside her. "How long did you know...?"

"That you were here? Not that long." She turned so that she was sitting facing him.

"Why did you keep singing?"

"Because I wanted to finish the song."

That was a good enough answer for him. They rested in silence for a while, the only sound the flow of the fountain. He thought about her song for a while, but psychoanalyzing the young woman's lyrics wasn't exactly on his to-do list. His mind wandered and he ended up just watching the motion of her fingers in the surface of the water. Finally, Graverobber got bored. "What are you thinking?"

She sighed. "That I'm sinking."

Uh oh, this was dangerous territory, and it had come on fast. Graverobber sat up, putting a little more space between them. He had a business agreement, and yeah, maybe a little history with Shilo, but emotional baggage was so not his territory. "There's got to be a better person for this conversation than myself."

"Who else?" She paused, and her eyes studied him. "You were my first glimpse of the real world..."

"Well, that's unfortunate."

"A dose of reality for a naïve girl. In a single night, my life was destroyed, and afterward... all I could hear was your voice. 'An entire city built on top of the dead.' Those words swirled round and round in my head. I looked for you, you know."

His brow creased as he frowned at her. "Tell me you didn't go..."

"Covered in blood, broken in every way, I stumbled into the alleys of Hades. Even knowing my sickness was a lie, I couldn't shake my mental disease. I thought, perhaps, you'd have my cure."

He stood swiftly, turning his back on the devastating look in her eyes. "All that talk is just a lure!" But of course she'd bought into it. She'd been seventeen, and anything but street-smart. "I run a business, pure and simple. For every market, a sub-market grows. All Zydrate does is make you a cripple; forever after that next hit of glow."

"It's not like I found you, anyway. Besides, even then you were tired of that life, weren't you?"

"I was; I am." Yeesh, when did this turn into a psychology session? He should have known that being around Shilo would be a bad influence on him. "I'm sick of the hypocrisy that bleeds its way into everyone. I'm pissed that I couldn't escape being a victim of this corporate machine; if GeneCo's the heart, then I'm the kidney. I got into this trade to mock them; to make their lives hell. But I guess even I was entranced; caught by the little blue vial's spell. Are you happy now, Shilo? Is this what you wanted? To know that sometimes, even the Graverobber is haunted?"

Her touch on his shoulder was gentle. When had she gotten up? Probably while he was ranting, but now his effort to separate them was foiled. She circled him until they were inches apart, though he was still significantly taller. Regardless, she reached up to hook her hands behind his neck, and she lay her head on his chest. The hug was a sweet gesture, but an unfamiliar sensation.

"There's already been so much pain; such despair we've all known. All I want is to help rid others of that pain, and then perhaps escape my own."

He patted her back awkwardly, suddenly unsure of himself and trying not to show it. He wasn't used to compassion. He wasn't used to anyone caring what he thought or felt. He wasn't even sure why he'd told her those things. Maybe it was to make her stop talking about her own issues? Yeah, that was probably it...

It had come out suddenly, and pretty much without his permission, and that wasn't allowed. If Graverobber had learned a single thing in all his years, it was that if you wanted to stay alive, you stayed in control. It was because of that that he stepped away from Shilo and her warm, un-manufactured heart.

"Listen, kid. If you want to escape your pain, you'd better get used to the idea of addiction. Chemistry is the only path to actually make it go away, otherwise... you have more conviction than anyone I've ever known." He turned from her so he could head back down that darkened path, back to the room that he couldn't think of as his; to the bed that he may or may not sleep in. Beneath his breath, he gave her a more civil farewell. "I wish you luck, kid. But if you actually succeed... then even I underestimated how much you've grown."

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**Okay, so for the coming chapters, I'm approaching the story and Shilo and Graverobber's history as if they never cut all those extra scenes from the movie, and there was actually a lot more interaction between the pair on the night of the Genetic Opera.  
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_SagePoint: who stole Marni's body from the Wallace home?_


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